


Burn

by TheRedWulf



Series: Stansa One Shots [15]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Regency, Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/M, Fluff and Smut, King!Stannis, Lust, No Plot, Regency, Regency Romance, Smut, Succubus, Vampires, Why bother with plot, plot holes, stansa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-06 01:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21218126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheRedWulf/pseuds/TheRedWulf
Summary: AU - Regency/Modern - In which the Vampire King hunts down a most intriguing woman...Picset is viewableHERE





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> This lovely spooky piece is another vampire one shot for Spooky Month, October!!! Really just a few lemons I strung together, smut is always a good reason, right? 
> 
> I don't consider myself a writer, like at all, so... This is unbeta'd so I apologize for any errors.  
Thank you for reading!

**London - c.1810 **

“Your Grace” Edric’s voice broke him from his missives and Stannis Baratheon looked up as his protege entered his office. 

“What is it?”

“We’ve found her” Edric said simply and Stannis knew exactly what he meant. 

“Where?” Stannis was on his feet in a flash, using his supernatural speed to follow Edric back down the corridor. 

“Davos and Waters have her trapped in an alley, she’s nearly feral but they have her cornered” Edric explained, grabbing Stannis’ overcoat from the rack and helped him into it. 

“Maybe we can, at last, put this messy business behind us and move forward” Stannis grimaced and ducked out into the night, running to where his men awaited his arrival. 

For nearly two centuries now, Stannis, once of the House Baratheon, had ruled the world of Vampires. He had ascended to such a rank with relative ease, his mind focused on maintaining the secrecy that kept their species alive. He was a hard man, dedicated to his duty and the letter of the law, but he was never unfair or prone to violence. 

Given his age, and the time he had spent as a leader of the vampiric world, he was strong, powerful and undefeated on any field of battle. His name struck fear into the hearts of any who opposed him, and those who had fought beside him would continue to do so for the rest of their days. 

In their world, now with cities packed to the brim with high society and the dregs alike, it was harder than ever to maintain their secrets, to keep to the shadows. Hence, why this feral woman had been his singular focus for nearly two years. 

He had met her once, in the darkness of an abandoned railway station he had cornered her as she fed brutally on a transient. He remembered every detail as if it were yesterday...

_Her fiery hair was tangled and filthy, her clothing faring even worse, but it was her eyes, a wild, pale blue that struck him. They held him captive, locked his feet in place. She was young, far too young to have been changed and he wondered who had done this. Who had taken this young girl’s life from her and left her to the wilds of London._

_She looked afraid, terrified really, her body crouched over her kill like a wild beast as she hissed a warning at his approach. He slowed, watching her wipe her mouth with the back of her hand, the scent of the man’s blood reaching his nose. The man had been drunk, an easy target, but that also meant that his blood was polluted and would burn quickly through her young system. _

_“I mean you no harm” he assured her, watching as she walked backwards without standing, keeping her low crouch and fighting position. “I can help you.”_

_She gave a cold and cruel laugh, her body rising to its full height as she shook her head, “I am beyond help” she said softly. “Just leave me be before I hurt you too.”_

_He took a moment to admire her height and form, she was truly a well-made woman, even filthy and in tattered clothing, “You cannot hurt me, I assure you.” _

_“You’re one too,” she noted, watching him with narrowed eyes. “Like me.”_

_“I am” he nodded. “One of the oldest of our kind.” _

_“Are you all men, then?” She asked, tilting her head as she stepped closer. She paused, wincing in pain and clutching at her stomach as she moved, her features were quickly schooled however, and he could not read her thoughts. “Are you all men who prey on the young and abandon us?” _

_“How old are you?” He asked. _

_“I suppose I will be ten and seven forever” she whispered, looking to her hands and the blood covering them. “Stuck like this….”_

_“Whoever did this to you has broken the laws of our kind,” he explained. “It is forbidden to change anyone under the age of 25 years.”_

_“Men never really care much for laws, not that I can remember” she reasoned, clutching her stomach once more. “Can you end this? End me?” _

_“I could, but why?” He countered. “I can help you.” _

_“Does the fire stop?” She asked and he frowned. “The burn...does it end?” _

_“The thirst?” He asked, quite confused. The burn of the thirst stopped when a vampire fed, the blood fueling their system for several hours to days until they needed to feed again. “How often do you feed?”_

_She glanced to the man laying on the planks beside her, “He was my tenth ...or eleventh today? I can't stop...”_

_Stannis felt a frisson of unease run down his spine as he stepped closer to her, “And the burn has not abated?”_

_“It never stops,” she whispered, clutching her stomach once more. “There is no peace, no rest...only death and fire.” _

_“Let me help you” he reached for her and the moment his hand closed around her wrist she screamed in pain, doubling over. _

_“No!” She cried as she fell to her knees, the fabric of her bodice pulling tight and threatening her modesty. Stannis did his best to look away from the upper swells of her breasts and the porcelain cream skin of her throat as she looked up at him, but this beauty was a siren, more tempting than any he had ever met._

_Stannis had never been a man prone to desires of the flesh, to lust or affairs. He had not lain with a woman since the youth of his human days and he had thought that with his change into the vampire that he now was, his body had gone dormant forever._

_That was not true, he now knew. All it had taken to awake his lust was the sight of one fiery, feral woman._

_“What is your name?” he asked her, still holding her wrist in an iron grip as she tried to claw his fingers away. He was much older and much stronger than her, able to hold her with ease._

_“Please, let me go” she sobbed. “It burns….”_

_“Burns?” He whispered, confused as to why his touch would hurt her. “Where? Where does it burn?”_

_“Stop! I beg you!” She screamed, reaching out to claw at his waistcoat, her fingers wrapping around the ancient Baratheon timepiece he kept on a chain at his waist. “Please…”_

_“At least give me your name!” He demanded, his voice cold and authoritative. _

_“No!” She countered shoving him backwards with all her might. He was startled enough to loosen his grip and in an instant, she was gone. All that remained of her was a piece of her dress' fabric and a tear at his waistcoat where his watch used to be._

That had been over a year ago, Stannis clenched his jaw as he approached the alley, and his men had ever stopped searching for her. Not only because of his watch, but because as soon as he consulted the council of advisors, he realized what she was. 

Who she was.

“Davos” he said as his most trusted man came into view. Davos Seaworth had been with him for several decades now. He was a good, honest man from a lowborn family. He was not book educated, but his mind was sharp and he had a strong moral compass that Stannis valued. He was grateful to include Davos in his council. 

“Your Grace” Davos gave a bow of his head. “She asked for you, though not by name.”

“She came to us willingly?” Stannis rounded to corner and there she was. All those months of searching and there she stood, as tall and beautiful as ever. She still wore the same dress, its material worn thin and filthy, her hair the worse for the wear. 

“She asked for you, once she was caught” Davos explained. 

“I see” Stannis moved past him and into the alley where Gendry Waters stood guard. 

“You” she said, watching him closely. “You did this.” 

“Me?” He frowned in confusion. “I did nothing.” 

“You cursed me” she spat, pulling the golden chain of his time piece from between her breasts and free of her bodice. “Because of this.” 

“While I am a vampire, I assure you, I did not curse you” he reasoned. “Though, if it is all the same, I would like my pocket watch back.” 

“A trade then” she offered. 

“For what?”

“I give you the watch, you undo whatever it is you did to me” she asked, glancing to Davos and Gendry with wild eyes. She shook her head and refocused on him, “I’d also like a bath and a new dress.”

“What is your name?” 

“Sansa” she said, holding the watch carefully in her fingers, the slender digits toying with the dial at the top. “I think.”

“You don’t remember?” He frowned.

“No” she glared. 

“I am Stannis, you can trust me,” he said.

“How do I know that?” She asked. 

“He is the King” Davos added, his voice gruff and brogue thick. 

“King?” She stared, eyes wide. 

“The oldest and strongest of us” Davos said. “He is your King, girl.” 

“Piss off” she spat at Davos, her eyes feral once more. 

“Easy” Stannis moved forward. She watched him with a wary gaze as he stopped not inches from her. “We will not hurt you.”

“You did last time” she whispered, putting the pocket watch back around her neck and tucking it into her bodice. She reached out, slowly as if expecting to be shoved away, so he held still. Her fingers, dirty and covered in dried blood, hesitantly touched his cheek, running along the hard line of his jaw. 

He watched her, saw her grimace and whimper in pain, saw her body turning into itself. Shoulders hunched, eyes filled with agony. 

“Your Grace” Davos warned, taking a step closer and in an instant she was in front of him, eyes locked on Davos, snarling in warning. 

“Easy” Stannis whispered, wrapping an arm around her waist to hold her back. “Easy, Sansa.” He did not miss the fact that without hesitation, her protective instincts had kicked in and she put herself between any perceived danger and himself. 

“Please…” she relaxed, if slightly, her body curling around his arm to rest on his shoulder. She all but melted to him, her body still and silent aside from her soft whimpers. 

“Come” he said softly. “My home is not far.” 

“Alright” she whispered and had he not been a supernatural being, he wouldn’t have heard the word. 

He guided her passed Davos and Waters, out of the alley and to his home, his body tense and ready to chase her if she bolted. This time, he wasn’t getting away. 

Sansa scrubbed away the grime and dirt, the warm, rose scented water burning against her flesh but she paid it no mind. It felt wonderful to be clean again, to be able to run her hands through her hair again. She could not remember the last time she had a warm bath and a new dress.

She knew beyond the door to the guest room, two men stood guard, watching over her as she readied herself to meet with the King. 

King, she scoffed, she should have known the first time that she met him that he was a ruler. He was built like one, tall, imposing and handsome—if severe. Tonight he was in all black, as he had been the first time they met, the polish of his boots nearly as bright as the dark blue of his eyes. 

King Stannis of House Baratheon, she glanced to where his pocket watch sat on the bed. It was his fault, she had deduced, the burning had grown worse since he touched her, each month growing sharper and sharper until she expected to burn away altogether. 

She knew he was looking for her, and she had given herself to the men with the hopes of bargaining for her life back. Or, rather, whatever semblance of a life she could have at this point. 

She hadn’t lied when she said that she didn’t remember her human life. All she had were flashes, brief glimpses of memories and she had no idea who the people in them were. A birthday there, a name there. That was all she had left of who she was.

All she knew was that she had woken, alone in the woods, and the first person who tried to help her died at her hands. She was a monster, she had deduced that much, and she had no control. She couldn’t stop it. 

Rising from the bathtub, she grimaced at how dirty the water had become and it made her even more grateful that she had bathed. 

She toweled off before dressing in the new shift, corset and dress that the King had provided. The dress was a deep scarlet, embroidered with small black details around the bodice. It was, she knew, the most beautiful dress that she had ever worn.

Once dressed, she tamed her damp hair into a chignon and pinned it, pulling the pocket watch back around her neck, the golden body resting between her breasts, where it had sat for a year. The time piece had become an odd comfort in the chaotic life that she now found herself in. It was an anchor and guiding compass. She was, admittedly, loathe to surrender it.

Once her stockings and boots, both also new, were in place, she crossed to the door and opened it, “Take me to the King” she asked, the older man from the alley watching her closely before he gave a nod. 

They made their way through the corridors of the great house, her eyes traveling over all of the lovely paintings and frames, not used to seeing such finery. She had, after all, been living on the street for some time. 

“Your Grace” the older man said as he opened the doors to the library. 

“Thank you Davos” the man said and her eyes moved to where he stood before the fireplace. In his customary all black, he had discarded his hat and gloves, putting his silver and black hair on display. He was older than her, or he had been when his body was changed. Perhaps mid-forties or so. His body held an air of confidence that was unmistakable, power pouring from him, even at a standstill.

Davos returned to the doorway, but did not close the doors, a fact that she did not miss. He didn’t trust her, and she could not blame him. Truthfully, she did not trust herself. 

Slowly, she crossed to stand before him, reaching up to unclasp the pocket watch chain, letting the gold pool in her palm.

“I did not mean to steal it,” she said softly. “I forgot it was in my hand when I ran. Sometimes, in the burn, I forget things in the present.” 

“It is very old,” he replied. “All that I have left of my human life.” 

“I did not break it” she extended it. “Lift your curse and let me be, Stannis, and it's yours.”

“I did not curse you” he repeated his words from the alley. “But I know why you burn.” 

“Why?”

“Why you cannot find satisfaction in those you hunt, why you cannot stop feeding” he continued.

“Why?” She demanded now, raising her voice. Stannis raised his hand to the door and she realized that she must have altered the guard, Davos, and she felt her hackles rise, “Tell me!”

“I never imagined that you existed,” he told her, lowering his hand to trace across her bare wrist. His touch burned, her body nearly arching as he traced across her flesh. 

“Stop it” she hissed. 

“What do you feel?” He asked. 

“Fire” she replied. 

“Where?”

If she were human, her cheeks would have flushed, “My body.” 

“Where?” He asked again. When she did not reply, he stepped closer, his hand moving from her wrist to her throat. “Here?”

“No.”

His hand moved lower, settling just above her breasts, “Here?”

“How dare you—”

“Here” he hand lowered once more, this time settling over her stomach—no, lower than her stomach. His fingers curled near the apex of her thighs and she raised a hand to slap him. 

He caught her easily, his own eyes dark with an emotion that she could not name. Her ire rising, she tried to pull her wrist away but he held her. 

She screamed out in anger, but he turned her, backing her against the wall and holding her prisoner. Their eyes locked and held for several seconds, both of them breathing heavily as electricity bounced between them. 

Her body, she realized, was screaming out _for_ this man. It had been from the first moment that she woke into this life. It wasn’t pain, not truly, that she felt, but lust...she shifted, the bodice of her dress feeling tight as she heaved a breath and tried to quell the tide of moisture between her legs. She whimpered as she moved, her body beyond her control...

“Fuck” the man cursed, stepping back abruptly as he released her. 

“What did you do…”

“Nothing in my control,” he replied. “My first suspicions were that you were a succubus” he said softly. “If a woman is turned, a human female, a virgin of a specific bloodline, she will awaken to this life with a thirst for more than blood. The burn you feel, is likely the burn of lust—”

“But it's just you” she said before she could stop herself. She leaned heavily against the wall behind her, her legs weak and shaky. 

He gave a curt nod, “A mated succubus will long only for one being.”

“Mate” she paused. “Like...wolves?”

“In a way,” he replied. “Vampires are known to take companions or mates, sometimes there is a call that they cannot turn away from. Davos met Marya and she was human, he turned her so that they could spend eternity together. They are magnetic, there is a pull and a burn.” 

“And you think that we are mates?”

“The burn at our touch, the fire you feel in your womb, confirms it” he said without preamble. “When the time comes and we claim each other, your succubus nature will demand that you feed from me, rather than a living human source. My body will be all that you need—"

“This is absurd” she shook her head weakly. “Mates? Succubus? Those are demons, demons are not real.” 

“Just as vampires are not real?” He countered. 

“Says the man who has proclaimed himself ‘king’,” she stated. 

“I did not proclaim myself King, I won the title through open combat,” he said, his voice firm and filled with confidence. “I took on hundreds of others and defeated them all. I am the King, Sansa, and you, you are the Queen.”

“Queen” she shook her head. “I am hardly a Queen. I have lived on the street for years, in filth and disgust. This is the finest dress that I have ever worn. I can’t even remember who I am!” 

“You are my mate, Sansa” he assured her. “Whether you accept that or not, it does not change the facts. You and I both feel it in our touch, only you feel it more acutely because of your true nature.” 

“This is insanity” she whispered. 

“There are far more things that are unbelievable.”

“Such as?” 

“I had not felt lust in three hundred years,” he said. “Not until that night in the train station.” 

“Is that why you had men hunting me?” She asked. 

“That, and you stole my pocket watch” he gave a small smirk and she felt the expression echo through her body. This man was very dangerous to her non-existent self control. 

“How do I know what you are saying is true and not some scheme to get into my bed?” She asked. 

“You know it's true, Sansa, I don’t have to justify this to you” he shook his head. “You know damned good and well exactly what you feel. Your throat may burn for blood, but your body burns for _me_” he emphasized his point by pounding his hand against his chest, over his heart. 

“Stannis—“

“No other man” he sidled closer. “No other boy, no other woman. It burns for me and me alone. That is why you let yourself get caught, that is why you look away when I ask you where you burn. You know it, Sansa. And I know it.”

Silence filled the room for several minutes, both of them watching each other as their minds raced. 

Sansa watched as he stepped closer still, the proud posture of his shoulders making him tower over her as he watched her with sharp eyes, “You feel it” his voice dropped and was low, husky. “You belong to me, Sansa.” 

“I belong to no one” she raised her hands to push him away but he pushed her back, her spine flush with the wall once more. “Unhand me, you—"

Her words were cut off when his lips claimed her own, taking them in a deep but gentle kiss. At his touch her body flared to life, the fire consumed her and shattered all control that she had left. The burn that she had lived with for the past year grew to an inferno, racing through her bloodstream.

The hands that had raised to push him away, locked around the lapels of his black coat, pulling him closer as their mouths tangled.

In the back of her mind she heard the click of the door, but she did not stop, clinging to his strength as her body burned. Her back left the wall and she realized that she was moving, but didn’t know where until Stannis’ strong arms laid her down before the fire place. His lean form settled atop her as he shrugged his jacket away and her hands held to his biceps to anchor herself. 

“What have you done to me” she whispered as he kissed along her jaw to her neck. 

“The same that you have done to me” he promised her. 

“Please” she begged, though she did not know what for. 

“Say it” he demanded, returning to kiss her deeply as his hands bunched her skirts, raising them higher. 

“No” she hissed, clawing at his waistcoat and shirt until her hands reached his bare flesh. His hands found the bare flesh of her thighs above her stockings, roughly grabbing her to hold her in place as he rocked against her.

“Say the words, damn you” he pulled her lower lip between his, biting her gently as she ran her hands across his bare back. “Say them!” 

“No” she countered, watching his eyes bleed to black as he held her pinned to the carpet. 

“You are mine, Sansa” he assured her as she tore the scraps of his shirt and waistcoat aside. His body was broad and lean, honed by years of warfare and laced with power. 

“Please” she parted her legs wide, wrapping them around his lean waist in an attempt to satisfy the fire in her core. 

“Say it” he whispered, his hands adjusting to that he held her wrists above her in one large hand, the other going to the buttons at the front of his breeches. 

“Stannis—”

“Say the words” he said as she felt the warm head of his cock against her entrance, the thick flesh teasing her. 

“Please” she raised her hips in an attempt to meet his but he pulled back. “You bastard!”

“Say it!” he trailed the head of himself across her sensitive bundle of nerves and she could have screamed.

“I’m yours,” she whimpered, her body now beyond her mind’s control, desperate for him. “Please, I am yours.” 

“Mine” he growled as he notched himself inside of her and shoved home. She cried out at the intrusion, her immortal body quickly healing the tear of her maidenhead and then she was filled with his cock, her body stretched and pinned at his mercy. 

He growled, cursing softly as he pulled back and began to fuck her roughly, her dress around her waist and his breeches and boots still on. Sansa could only cling to his strength, hold to him as his body drove hers to heights that she could never have imagined. 

She knew the moment that he joined their bodies, everything he had said was true. Her body burned for him and him alone, her body craved him and as her pleasure rose, so did the fire in her throat. 

She cried and begged incoherently as their coupling filled the library with gasps, growls and the wet sound of their bodies slapping together. She had never experienced the feel of a man above her, inside of her, but she knew that it was only this intoxicating because it was Stannis that was taking her. 

The long drag of his cock against her inner walls sent shivers through her and she tightened her legs around him, urging her faster. 

He released her wrists and his hands carded into her hair, pulling it free of the simple style, kissing her deeply as he balanced on his elbows over her. Her hands scratched down his back, grabbing onto the muscle of his ass, begging him to move faster, harder. 

“Stannis” she gasped, her back arching as she felt her body racing towards explosion. 

“That’s it” he encouraged, leaning down to nibbled on her neck and earlobe. “Come for me, little one. Let it take you, come apart for me.” 

“Stannis--please” she gasped. “Gods—” it hit her with frightening power, her body bowing beneath him and her hands digging into his ass. She felt her release ripple and crash over her, pulling her under a dark tide. 

He growled, fucking her harder and harder until she was screaming out blindly. She felt his body tense, back arch and then he was coming, pouring his essence into her in long, heated jets. 

She was unable to stop herself, baring her teeth and turning to his neck, she sank her teeth into the flesh there, pulling his strength from him as he filled her. She fed on his pleasure, on the stolen blood running through his veins and she could not stop.

As her peak receded, so did the burn and for the first time in years she felt peace. The thirst and the fire inside of her, was nothing more than a dull ache now, her body having finally taken what it needed from his. 

“Gods” Stannis stayed atop her, turning to kiss her softly as she pulled her teeth from his neck. She felt the blood running down her chin, but she couldn't be pressed to care, not as her body descended into relaxation. 

“You were right” she whispered, staring up at him. Her hands moved from his ass to his shoulders, tracing across the healing welts she had left in his flesh. 

“I would never lie to you, Sansa” he assured her. “You are far too important.” 

“I bit you” she looked to where her mark sat on his neck, the punctures healing, though slowly. 

“I know” he gave a soft smile, the expression softening his features as he leaned forward to clean the blood from her chin with his tongue. “I would gladly give you anything you needed of me.”

“I’m a succubus” she whispered, more to herself than Stannis. 

“You are _my_ succubus” he promised. “You are my Sansa.”

She glanced around, “The library…”

He chuckled, “The library.” 

“Perhaps” she swallowed, the taste of him lingering on her lips. “Another bath, and a proper bed.” 

“Anything you desire” he promised. 

“Are we…” she paused. “Mated now?”

“We are as good as married in the eyes of vampires” he said. “Though, we can have a proper ceremony if you wish it.” 

“No” she shook her head. “I should like to get to know you, I think. The man, not the King.” 

“Of course” he nodded. “And I would like to do the same.” 

“Well then,” she said, his body slipping from hers and the wetness of their releases coating her thighs. “Where do we start?” 

**Northern England - c.1970**

Stannis raced down the driveway, his focus solely on the large estate hidden in the woods. The large estate that held his Queen and wife of many years. 

He downshifted and guided his Mercedes Gullwing around the final corner, his mouth twitching into a smirk as the great house came into view. His Mercedes was his guilty pleasure, a small indulgence that he had granted himself when the car was initially released. Now it was nearly a classic already. How time flies.

Sansa must have heard his approach, his wife stood on the porch in the doorway, her hair loose to her hips and body clad in a flowing linen dress that did little to conceal the flesh underneath. 

He took a moment to admire her as he pulled into the front drive, knowing that a more beautiful woman did not exist. Parking in front of the door, he unfolded himself from the car and wasted no time crossing to her. 

“Husband” she whispered as he lowered his lips to hers, his arms wrapping around her and lifting her easily. Her legs wrapped around him as he carried her inside, her body clinging to him as it had for over a century. 

From the moment he had taken her beside the fireplace, Sansa had been at his side. As his mate, his wife and his Queen, Sansa blossomed into the regal beauty she had been born to be. She learned all of the nuances of her special gifts, learned how to be a Queen and learned who she truly was. 

And he adored every inch of her. 

Duty had called him to the city where he and the others had dealt with a rogue hunter set about blowing their secret to the entire world. The hunter had been eliminated and the moment the sun had set, Stannis immediately began his trip home. 

In all he had only been gone for five days, but it felt like ages, being away from her. When he was away, he felt the burn in his chest, a pull that demanded he return to her and stay at her side. And he knew that she felt it too, her body more intuned with his than they realized as the years passed. 

He had taken her with him once, to the city, but the effect that her beauty and charm had on humans and vampires alike had him ushering her back to the country as quickly as possible. Sansa found it hilarious, that men bent so easily to her whims and demands, but in Stannis it awakened a possessive streak three miles wide. 

“Stannis” Sansa pleaded, her nails dragging across his scalp in the way she knew drove him wild. As he reached the stairs, he turned and pinned her to the wall long enough to push her dress to her waist, free himself from his slacks and sink into her weeping core. “Fuck” she sighed in relief as they were joined once more. 

“You missed me” he smirked, nibbling at her jaw. 

“Always” she tightened her legs around him. “I do hate it when you’re away. If only you let me go with you---”

“Absolutely not” he nearly growled, rocking deeply within her. “I will not drag you to the city where men can fall all over themselves for your attention.” 

“But darling” she sighed as he moved her from the wall and continued up the stairs to their bedroom. “Lust is such an easy way to manipulate them.” 

“Damned succubus” he smirked as he sat on the edge of the large bed, one they had shared for many years. Sansa was astride his lap now, her strong legs helping her to ride him in an achingly slow pace. 

He helped her to unbutton his dress shirt and spread it wide, her hands trailing across his bare flesh as he worked the buttons down the front of her dress. 

As the times and fashion had changed, he was more and more grateful that the new styles allowed for the loose fabric his wife adored. Not to mention the lack of undergarments, corsets and stockings made everything much easier to access. This of course was a great benefit for himself. 

He all but purred as he bared her breasts and leaned forward to suckle each one deeply, her answering mewls sending a fresh wave of lust through him. He ran his hands up her back and she leaned against his hands, throwing her head back in pleasure as she rode his cock. 

“Beautiful” he whispered, holding her arched body as she moved. As much as he hated being gone, their homecomings were worth it every single time. He could watch her move, watch her take her pleasure for hours, his own body rising to meet her lust with each step. 

“Stannis, my King” she whimpered and he felt her body racing toward its peak. She moved faster, harder, grinding against him with each downward stroke. 

He held her as she screamed in climax, her body fluttering around his and when he followed her a few strokes later, she arched towards him and sank her teeth into his throat. 

White hot desire consumed them both as they came together, her body pulling strength from his. She was more in control now, her body practiced at feeding from his and she took only what she needed, licking his neck clean and pulling back to kiss him softly. 

“I love you” she whispered against his mouth as they shared a soft kiss. 

“I love you, my Queen” he promised, holding her tightly to him. 

“Now then” she smirked. “We have five days to make up for.” 

“Why do you think I drove so fast?”

**Outskirts of London - Present Day**

“Your Grace” the words pulled her from her musings and Sansa turned to see Davos in the doorway to her solar. 

“Davos” she smiled, turning to greet him. “I trust you are well?”

He gave a nod and a small smile, “I am, Your Grace” he cleared his throat. “I just thought that you should know, another has come to challenge the King.” 

“Another” Sansa sighed, shaking her head. “Perhaps someday they will learn, no?” She turned off her laptop and tucked it away before following him out of the room. “How long have we been doing this, Davos?” Sansa asked, tucking her arm through his as they walked. 

“Over two hundred years, Your Grace” he chuckled. “Though, Stannis and I have been doing this for far longer.” 

“And yet they still come” Sansa smiled. 

“I must admit, Your Grace, I think they come to catch a glimpse of you” he chuckled, patting her hand where it lay on his arm.

“Am I such a sight to see” she smirked. “Succubus Queen. Behold the demoness!” she teased and Davos laughed once more.

She had been Queen of the Vampire world for over two hundred years now, a feat that sounded impossible but every time a challenger came to their keep, Stannis beat them back and their submission or death secured the throne for the Baratheons. 

It had taken some years for Davos to trust her completely, and she suspected that is was Marya, Davos’ wife that had helped her to win the older man’s approval. Now they were, what she considered, friends, their comradery close as they supported Stannis’ rule. 

Stannis. Her Stannis. Sansa smiled to herself as she walked with Davos. 

Years ago she had run from Stannis, run from the way he made her feel. But now, hundreds of years later, he was her world. Her husband, her mate, her best friend. She drew from his strength, literally and figuratively; and she depended on his sound mind for advice and conversation. 

She never did figure out who she was before she was changed, but with Stannis she was a cherished wife, a beloved Queen and a true friend. She could not ask for more than that. 

The more she learned of him, of the true him, the more she loved him. And she did love him. Two hundred years ago. Today. Forever, she would always love him. 

Stannis was strong, powerful but he was also humble and just. He ruled with a fair hand and he truly cared for their people. For the vampire species as a whole. He was a truly good man and she couldn’t have stopped herself from loving him if she tried. 

Rounding the final corner, they exited the mansion and stepped into the moonlight and walked towards the makeshift training yard. While the world beyond their property was a world of cell phones and social media, here at the mansion vampires were free to be vampires. 

The crowd fell to a hush as she walked through, all eyes turning to watch her as she moved. She had done her research, her due diligence and her soul-searching. She knew what she was, and what that meant. She was, as far as she knew, the only one of her kind. A vampiric succubus, a rare and coveted creature in the world of the supernatural. 

Once upon a time, Stannis had hidden her away because of the way men and vampires alike threw themselves at her feet, at her mercy. She was a being of pure lust, and while she had learned to control it, it would always surround her.

Fortunately, she wasn’t just any succubus, she was a mated succubus. This meant her life was tied to Stannis’, their souls twined beyond the measure of mates. It also meant, she had learned from her reading, that her beauty far surpassed the normal vampiric female. Her beauty was a hunting tool, drawing in others so that she could feed on them. 

The joke, however, was that she only longed to feed from Stannis. 

No, she was a poor succubus indeed. 

They reached the training yard and she walked through the crowd gathered to sit on the bench near the sanded arena, looking to where her husband stood, ready to fight. 

“Now that the Queen is present, we can begin” Gendry spoke, giving her a slight bow, his voice even and calm. “King Stannis, House Baratheon is here to defend his title against Justin of House Massey.” 

Sansa watched the smiling man as he approached Stannis, wondering where a man this jovial got the gall to challenge the king. Mentally she gave a shrug, it took all types, she supposed. 

She watched as the two men faced each other, each taking a sword from Gendry and she noted that this must be the chosen mother of combat that Massey had chosen. The moonlight flooded the arena and she couldn’t help but admire her husband in his black slacks and white dress shirt. 

While times have changed, Stannis’ style had peaked and held in the late 1950’s, his body made for well-cut suits and the crisp hairstyles. She would never complain that her husband always looked put together and sharp. It was something that she adored about him.

Davos and Marya sat beside her, both watching as the two men readied and then they were fighting, both moving swiftly and with deadly intent. 

Sansa had watched men challenge her husband for hundreds of years. Watched some fight with bare hands, to crossbows and flails. Had even watched as some made their intention of owning _her_ as well as the throne, known. That never went over well, she smirked. It was as good as signing a death warrant, in fact. Her husband was a possessive man and it was not advisable to threaten her. Not at all. She shivered at the thought of what those men had endured before their deaths.

Several minutes passed, their swords clashing and sparking in fury but before the crowd could react, Stannis had unarmed Massey and had his blade at his throat, standing over the younger man with malice in his eyes. 

“I yield” Massey said, raising his hands in supplication. 

“Good” Stannis stepped back, looking over to where she sat. 

Sansa rose, standing tall in her designer heels and skin tight black dress. As the years progressed, it was apparent how much she adored fashion, and she was always up to date. Hence, her Christian Louboutin shoes and Prada dress. Her fiery hair fell to her waist in soft curls and her makeup, was as always, perfect. 

Of course, at her neck was the golden chain of the old Baratheon pocket watch, the ancient time piece at rest between her breasts as it had been for hundreds of years. The clock, she smiled, reminded her of her husband’s love with each click, each tick and tock. It was their private sign of affection, their connection that she carried at all times. Just as Stannis’ neck bore her mark at all times. 

She stepped down to the edge of the arena and Stannis moved to her side with a smirk, sword still in-hand.

“Wife” he smirked as she kissed him, her hands running through his short silver hair. 

“Well done, my love” she smiled down at him, stroking a hand over his cheek. The burn that lived between them flared to life and she sighed at the pleasure of his touch. 

“You’ve missed me, I see” he smirked, placing his free hand on her hip. 

“I have, it's been hours” she sighed, kissing him once more. 

“Affairs of state have kept me occupied,” he admitted. 

“Affairs of the heart should take precedence” she advised and he smiled, his deep blue eyes sparkling with mirth. 

“They should” he nodded over his shoulder to where Massey now stood with several others. "Duty called, but it is over now.” 

“Now that it is handled” Sansa boldly ran her hand down his chest. “Come with me, love, we have better things to see to.” 

“Do we?” Stannis stepped closer. 

“Absolutely” she replied. 

Stannis chuckled and stepped back, stabbing his sword into the planks of the steps, letting his blade, Lightbringer, stand tall on its own. He stepped forward, scooping her into his arms as he strode from the arena. Cheers and laughter followed them, all knowing damned good and well what the King’s succubus Queen was going to do to him after such a display. 

Sansa held to her husband’s neck, burying her face against his cheek as he carried her back to the mansion. 

“Wife” he whispered as they ducked inside and out of the moonlight. 

“My darling” she replied as he made it to their room and stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him. “King you are, and King you shall remain” she said as he lowered her to their bed. 

“I do what I must to ensure that you remain Queen” he smirked, his hands moving to the zipper at the side of her dress. 

“Good” she smirked, knowing damned well that her mate was the best and strongest of them. 

“Darling” he all but purred, lowering his lips to her ear. “This time, the heels stay on.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr for pic sets and more shenanigans!  
@the-red-wulf or https://the-red-wulf.tumblr.com/


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